This is War
by bobness
Summary: All America wanted to do was stay neutral. It wasn't meant to be, though. A WW1 fanfic, rated T for swearing and dark images in later chapters, mainly because I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

Waiting was always difficult for Arthur Kirkland. He was the type of man who was typically the first to spring into action. This wasn't his idea of being 'proactive'. Yes, it was necessary, but he'd rather do things on his own terms. Instead, he was sitting here waiting for Alfred, who seemed to enjoy taking his time.

It was the summer of 1916, two years after the 'start' of the Great War. Arthur had already been through enough wars to know that this one was horribly massive. _The war to end all wars indeed,_ he thought bitterly, stiffening in his seat as he remembered the awful deaths soldiers from both sides were experiencing.

He was lost in his own dreadful world when the doors opened. In walked Alfred, looking slightly cautious and hesitant. Arthur cleared his head and stood, locking his dark green eyes onto the younger nation's sky-blue ones. "Greetings, Alfred."

"Screw the formalities," Alfred said, glaring angrily. "I know why you've come, and I don't appreciate it at all. How many times have I explained to you that I'm going to stay neutral?"

Arthur felt himself tense. He should have known what response Alfred would have waiting for him. The war was over European affairs, so what exactly would Alfred have to gain by joining. However, he didn't fly all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to be rejected before he even began. "What about _Lusitana_?" he asked, placing his hands behind his back and straightening. Why was Alfred so damn tall? "You lost so many of your citizens-"

"Need you remind me?"

"And, Germany is to blame!" Arthur ended, ignoring Alfred's interruption. "How can you not go to war after he did that to us- to you? They also attacked the _Sussex_, if you-"

Alfred cut him off, rage in his eyes. "I get it!" he yelled, pounding his fist into the table. "I don't need you to go through every bad thing that Germany has done. Don't you think I keep tabs on these things, Arthur? For your information, you have also wronged me!"

This was what caught Arthur off-guard. "Wait, what? What have I been doing?"

"Oh, quit acting dumb," Alfred snapped at him. "Your stupid naval blockade has been stopping my ships- ships headed for neutral countries, mind you- and searching through the cargo!"

Oh. Arthur had completely forgotten about that little detail. But, upon thinking it over, he realized that Alfred should actually understand the reason. "This is war," he replied, his voice now as calm as his gaze as he looked at the young country. "I cannot risk your troops sending any weapons to the Central Powers. Lord knows they already have enough as is. You should see what France looks like right now."

At this, Alfred's rage seemed to leave him. His shoulders drooped and he averted his eyes to the ground. "I've seen a few pictures."

Arthur snorted. "Alfred, pictures don't show anything. I've been fighting in France for some time now, and it's ten times worse than the pictures make it out to be. Then, there's Francis himself. The man looks to be close to death sometimes. He's lost the energy even to insult me."

"And, you?"

He gave a start at this question, he had to admit. Alfred's voice was so quiet, as though he was trying to hide his real concern. Arthur sighed, wondering how exactly to answer. He'd lost more than a few pounds on his 'lovely' new diet, that was for sure. He'd been infected by disease that those blasted rats would carry, and, at many times, his hair would be full of lice or fleas, or sometimes both. Worse, though, was the mental torment he had to endure. Nightmares about his dying people frequently interrupted his sleep, and he constantly awoke in a sweat, the image of a man's skin burning from mustard gas still etched in his mind. Honestly, he couldn't count the amount of times he nearly had breakdowns. He opened his mouth to say all of this, but the worry in Alfred's face left him unable to voice his real thoughts. Instead, he gave a shrug. "It could be better. But, as I said before, Alfred, this is war. It's not your own sheltered country."

He knew he took this a bit too far when Alfred's eyes flashed. "Sheltered? You think I'm sheltered? I may not be in your silly little war, but I do have my own share of problems! Day after day, I have to deal with other countries telling me who to side with. You print your stupid propaganda posters in my newspapers, Germany continuously tries to make me join to Central Powers-"

It took Arthur a few seconds to fully comprehend what Alfred said. "Wait, Germany's been here?"

Alfred gave a smirk. Usually, those smirks annoyed Arthur. Under the circumstances, though, and with Alfred's current state of anger, it appeared to be more threatening than anything. "Of course. You're not the only one in need of allies, Arthur."

Arthur quickly processed this information. If the Central Powers gained America as their friend, the Allies would be in trouble for sure. The country had grown into a superpower in such a short amount of time. It was more than likely that they'd be the turning point of the war, and the Central Powers would prevail. To top all of that off, Russia seemed to be having some trouble within his own country, which had already lost the Allies a considerable amount of troops. America joining on Germany's side would- _No!_ Arthur thought, stopping the worries pouring through his mind. _I won't think of that! It's discouraging. Besides, I won't lose another war._ He was determined to sway Alfred into joining his side. "Are you planning on going to war against me?"

"Frankly, Arthur, I'm not planning on going to war at all. I have no wish to send my men to their deaths in your war."

Silence fell as Arthur desperately tried to search for an answer, a reason, for Alfred to be part of the Allies. "Matthew has agreed to my cause."

"I know," Alfred muttered, biting his lip. "I've already spoken to him." Suddenly, Arthur realized just how tired and torn Alfred looked. "He can do what he wants, though. It's not my place to ridicule him for his decision." He sat down in a chair and looked up at the older nation. "I don't want to go to war, Arthur. My people are no longer just English. Yes, I still have many that can trace their lineage back to your people, but I also have those who have family in Germany or Poland. So many of them now have different opinions, and I don't know who to side with anymore." Alfred slowly looked up. "If I go to war against Germany, so many of my people will die. If I go to war against you, so many of my people will die. Besides," he paused and closed his eyes. "Even after the revolution, I've still loved you like my brother, England."

Arthur gaped slightly at Alfred, who was staring at the wall across the room. They'd never said anything so kind to each other since Alfred declared his independence. _Now what?_ Arthur thought in despair. _I can't force him to go to war, not after he said that! Bloody hell, Alfred, why do you always have to make things so difficult?_ The Englishman rubbed the back of his neck. "And, I-I've always-" He slightly blushed as he shook his head. "Never mind. Forget I ever came." He made his way to the door. "Please consider what I've spoken to you about, Alfred."

"How can I do that if I'm supposed to forget you ever came?"

Arthur gave a smile. At least Alfred hadn't lost his wit. "Twat," he muttered affectionately before walking out the door. Though he hadn't made considerable progress in getting Alfred to join the war, and he knew Alfred would probably stay neutral, he still made a shocking discovery. _I still love you, America._

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><p><strong>I actually enjoyed writing this little oneshot. I have to admit, though, the ending completely sucked. Feel free to bash me- I deserve it after such an ending. Bleh.<strong>

**Anyway, it's HISTORY TIME! I have a lot of 'stuff' from World War 1 in here that's mentioned, so be prepared. Or, just totally skip over my awesome history notes. It's not like I'd know, anyway.**

**-World War 1, at this time, wasn't called World War 1. How could it be, if they didn't know they'd be having a sequel? Instead, it was dubbed 'The Great War', which makes perfect since. And, to put it short, there really is no clear cut over who the good guys were and who the bad guys were. Because victors write history, the Allies came out to be the good guys, though. However, it started from a tangle of alliances. Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, after the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Russia, who had a treaty with Serbia, announced mobilization of their army in Serbia's defense. Seeing this as an act of war, Germany, in a treaty with Austria-Hungary, then declared war on Russia. France, bound by a treaty with Russia, declared war on Germany. Britain, in some loosely worded treaty with France, came to their defense and declared war on Germany and Austria-Hungary. Britain was also in a treaty with Belgium, which was being invaded by Germany. Because of Britain's involvement, their colonies also began getting involved, such as Australia, Canada, India, and parts of Africa. Japan, in a military agreement with Britain, declared war on Germany, and Austria-Hungary declared war on Japan. And, lastly, we have poor Italy, who was allied with Austria-Hungary and Germany, but because they believed that the war was an offensive, and they agreed to fight a defensive war, they turned to neutrality. HOWEVER, good old Italy came back into the war on the side of the Allies in 1915. **

**Seriously, though, the assassination of Ferdinand was just the spark that set off war. Before this, Austria-Hungary was attempting to oppose its will on the Balkans, Germany, wanting to be a strong power, sort of entered in a race with Britain (called an _arms race_) to see who could make the most weapons, France was angry at German states for their loss during the Franco-Prussian war...wow, there's just too many reasons to name.  
><strong>

**-America isolated themselves from European affairs and managed to achieve a state of neutrality. It was not meant to last, however. Many Americans were immigrants from the areas involved in the war. The German-Americans wanted to join the Central Powers, the French-Americans wanted to join the Allies, etc. Very muddled and confusing. British propaganda wasn't helping much, either. They BASHED Germany like crazy in American newspapers. Seriously, they made the Germans look like mindless killers. In one poster I saw, Germany was depicted by a King-Kong ape-thing. **

**Then, the British began stopping American ships from reach neutral countries, and they searched the cargo! In all honestly, I get why they did this. For one, (as Arthur stated twice), it's war and for another, America was secretly smuggling weapons to both the Allies and the Central Powers. Very sketchy business you've got going on, America. HOWEVER (there's always a however in my world), it was a bright decision on their part. They got some nice money, and selling weapons to both sides allowed them to stay neutral. Think about it; if they only sent weapons to Germany, they'd be allied with them, and if they only sent weapons to the British, they'd be allied with them, and if they sent no weapons at all, both sides would hate them and maybe declare war on America...it's hard to tell.**

**THENNN (cue theme music), German submarines started attacking neutral ships in the 'war zone'. Seriously, these guys were legit in attacking ships. Just look at a map sometime of all the ships that the German's sunk. Anyway, in May, 1915, Germany sunk the _Lusitania_, a British passenger ship with 1,198 civilians, 128 of which were Americans. Granted, the ship probably had weapons that had been smuggled onto it, but STILL...that's a lot of innocent people to kill just because you THINK that the ship had weapons. **

**President Woodrow Wilson was pretty pissed at Germany for this, and told them so. Germany said they'd back away, but nearly a year later, they attacked the _Sussex_. In Germany's defense, they thought it was a minelaying ship (or so they said). In actuality, it was a French passenger ship. It didn't sink, but fifty-five people were killed, and several Americans were injured. Again, Wilson expressed his anger to the Germans, who made the _Sussex Pledge_, which pretty much said that they would no longer attack commercial ships, unless they contained weapons (they still had the right to search the ships), but only after passengers were safely off the ship.**

**By February of 1917, though, Germany resumed full-scale U-boat warfare, even though they knew that this meant America would now be their enemy. They kinda overestimated themselves and underestimated the American military, though...anyway, Wilson broke diplomatic ties and ordered the arming of American merchant ships.**

**This was not when we joined the war, however- it was just when we expressed our utter disgust toward Germany's actions and made it clear that we would not be joining the Central Powers (I just switched from referring to America as 'they' to 'we'. I'm too patriotic to continue acting as if I'm not American .). In March, 1917, we got the _Zimmerman Note_, which is for another story another day. I might have to write a story on it, 'cause it's rather interesting and full of conspiracies. I love conspiracies :D.**

**-Russia was indeed having their Revolution. It kinda started in 1916 and lasted until 1917. I'm still fuzzy on the details, but the citizens of Russia weren't too happy with their current monarchy, so they overthrew it. Hoping that the new leader would bring more soldiers into the war, the Allies accepted this. HOWEVER, the new leader made a treaty with Germany and took all troops out of fighting, which was a big loss for the Allies (although America joins the war in 1917, which slightly made up for this).**

**WOWWW~! You've just been educated. Honestly, I was not meaning to write so much about WW1. I meant to say, "Here are some basics, now go look up the rest if interested", but I was bored and kinda got carried away in my writing, which happens quite a lot. I enjoyed writing the fic to the point where I'm considering NOT making it a one-shot. I might add in a few more chapters about American involvement during WW1, because I find it to be interesting. Feel free to bash me across the head with your words if you hate it, or give me Internet kisses if you love it (you can do so by review or PM!). If you have any questions, or if you notice any mistakes in my history (I'm not perfect- I make mistakes), please feel free to tell me. Also, if you have more on the Russian Revolution that you'd like to share, I'd be more than happy to read up on that subject, and somehow incorporate it into another WW1 fic. Muchos gracias!  
><strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, David Lloyd George, or Woodrow Wilson. I can't own the last two, anyway, on account that they're both dead.**

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><p>It took a few minutes for Arthur to read the letter in his hands. He then read over it a second time, just to be sure he was understanding it correctly. "And, you say that the British cryptographers uncovered this?" he asked, his voice low.<p>

The new Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, stood behind his personified country and gave a short nod, though Arthur was unable to catch it. "Yes. We intercepted the letter and they had been figuring out what the coding meant for a short time now." He stepped up beside Arthur, who was staring down at the note with an unreadable expression. "We're going to give it to President Woodrow Wilson in a few weeks."

Arthur looked up. "Why such a long time? Give this to them _now_!"

The Prime Minister, however, seemed to have his mind made up. "If we do that, we risk being caught. We're going to need some time to meet with President Wilson. He certainly won't be happy about this."

"I should say not," Arthur agreed in a whisper, a smile finding its way to his face. _But, at least I now know how to get America to fight for us._

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><p>It was February 25th when Alfred was summoned into White House. He was fairly pissed about it, too; after all, he had been there all morning and when he finally thought he'd get a chance to stay outside for a little bit, they called him right back in. Of course, he wasn't going to say anything against it. Woodrow Wilson was his president, and a pretty damn good one, considering the fact that he was keeping them out of the war. Though Alfred was as outgoing and social as anyone, he'd trade his friendship any day to keep his men from dying, thank you very much. Now, if only England and Germany would stop pulling him from either side, life would be much better.<p>

That's what he thought, until he met up with Wilson. The president didn't even waste time for introduction. Instead, he pushed a single sheet of paper toward Alfred, who looked at it with a confused gaze. "What is-?"

"Just read it," Wilson responded, looking more tired and weary then Alfred had ever seen him. It was at that moment when Alfred thought, _I really don't want to know what this letter contains. I really, really don't._ He knew he had to, though. If it concerned his president this much, he had to know the context.

So, he read it. And read it again. And again. And, once more. Finally, he could take it no more, and he slammed it down on the table, his glasses crooked and cheeks blaring red as the blood boiled in him. "What the hell is this?" he asked.

"The Zimmerman Note." Wilson took the cursed paper from the table and sighed as he, too, looked over it once more. "The British intercepted it a few weeks ago, on February the seventh. They decoded it and handed it over yesterday."

Alfred thought this over. "They had it for such a long time, and they weren't telling us?"

Wilson raised his eyebrows. "It's difficult for the British, America. They don't have the luxury of being away from the war and the fighting." He stood, the note still in his hand. "I'm considering joining them, though."

"Joining-?" Alfred gasped. "No. No, no, no. We're _not_ joining that stupid war that's being fought over who is the best! It's between the Europeans, anyway, not us! There's no need-"

"No need?" Wilson shot back. "We have proof right here that Germany is promising lands to Mexico, lands that are rightfully ours, if they fight for the Central powers, and you believe we still have no need to join this war?" He made his way to the door. "I'm going to release this note to the general public in a few days, America. Please be prepared for war."

He left, and Alfred stared after him, wondering how to take his anger out. Best to not do so in the White House, considering that it was his capital building. Actually, he'd be better not to let it out at all. He needed to control his composure. After all, he was the hero, and heroes _never_ let their rage show through. _Never._

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><p>As Wilson promised, Alfred soon found the Zimmerman Note published in newspapers from across his country. He looked over it, his eyes narrowing as he read.<p>

'_To the German Minister to Mexico_

_ Berlin, January 19, 1917_

_ On the first of February we intend to begin submarine warfare unrestricted. In spite of this, it is our intention to endeavour to keep neutral the United States of America._

_ If this attempt is not successful, we propose an alliance on the following basis with Mexico: That we shall make war together and together make peace. We shall give general financial support, and it is understood that Mexico is to reconquer the lost territory in New Mexico, Texas, and Arizona. The details are left to you for settlement..._

_ You are instructed to inform the President of Mexico of the above in the greatest confidence as soon as it is certain that there will be an outbreak of war with the United States and suggest that the President of Mexico, on his own initiative, should communicate with Japan suggesting adherence at once to this plan; at the same time, offer to mediate between Germany and Japan._

_ Please call to the attention of the President of Mexico that the employment of ruthless submarine warfare now promises to compel England to make peace in a few months._

_ Zimmermann  
>(Secretary of State)<em>'

_Yeah, over my dead body, Germany,_ Alfred thought, tossing the paper aside. Reading those words didn't make anything easier, especially not now. The whole country was desperate for war, and anti-German sentiment grew like wildfire. Alfred, even, was steering towards joining on the side of the Allies, if only to fight off the Germans who were prepared to help Mexico-what was it?- 'reconquer the lost territory'.

"Oh, damn it all to hell," Alfred muttered, sinking deeper down into his chair. His country was going to fight a war. He knew it, he could feel it. There was no doubt about that. But, how many would have to die? How many would be shot down, fighting for an unknown cause? Many. Alfred had been in wars. Not many, not nearly enough, and never this big of a scale, but he most certainly knew that with war came deaths. Alfred wasn't sure if he was prepared to face the consequences that the war would bring to his countrymen.

It wasn't as if he had much of a choice. On April 6, 1917, Congress declared war on Germany and the rest of the Central Powers. And, all Alfred could do was prepare for the Great War.

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><p><strong>Why, hello to you! If you're reading this story, I really hope you enjoy! Yeah, not so much of Iggy in this chapter, but I'll make another one with IGGY GALORE! Maybe.<br>**

**Now, it's time for some notes! Because of the HUGE amount I had in my last story, I'll try very hard to make this shorter.**

**The Zimmerman Note was a note sent from Zimmerman, the Secretary of State from Germany, to the German Minister to Mexico, von Eckhardt. As stated, the note was offering Mexico lands in America in return for joining the Central Powers. But, big, bad Britain came in and intercepted this nasty letter, and kinda went up to Wilson, all like, "Dudes~! If this isn't an act of war, I don't know what is!" and Wilson, who was actually re-elected for staying OUT of the war, told Congress to go to war, which they did a few days later. Ah, Wilson, you ruined your 'let's-keep-peace' image! I still respect you greatly, though, especially you and your Fourteen Points (which I shall not talk about now, for fear of making this surprisingly short explanation much too long).**

**Oh, the British Prime Minister at the time was David Lloyd George. He was actually pretty new to office, and had succeeded the old Prime Minister, Herbert Henry Asquith (who, as a side-note, looks very much like a British gentleman). George was a very bold and aggressive, which is very good when in war. I think...well, the Allies win (spoiler!), so his boldness MUST have been helpful...**

**^Ooh, my notes were actually short. So was the story itself! Sorry it's such a piece of crap today- I'm fairly tired after having an unusual dream with China. He's trying to find a way into my stories, I tell you...ANYWAY, read and review and enjoy and don't freeze!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Hetalia. Hmph.**

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><p>June 26, 1917. The date in which the Americans had finally come. Arthur waited with his war-torn army on the streets of Paris. "He's certainly late in this," the island nation grumbled to Francis, who was standing beside him.<p>

"Calm down, _Angleterre_," came the reply. "Let us just be pleased he's even joining this war."

Arthur cast a glance to his neighbor. Francis looked awful. The war, being fought in his own homeland, had certainly taken its toll. Gone were the beautifully ornate clothes of his past. Now, he wore a dreary gray outfit that was patched up in many places. His golden locks of hair also seemed more than bland, and hung limp and greasy down his shoulders. His face was tired and he had bags under his eyes. Still, Arthur knew the arrival of the Americans was certainly bringing hope to the older nation. He could tell in the way Francis held himself slightly taller, and stared out across the street with anticipation.

Not wanting to admit it, Arthur was also excited. This could very well be their ticket to winning this accursed war. After all, America was a strong nation, and sine the Russians were slowly leaving, the help would be quite beneficial. "How many soldiers does he have?"

"From what I have heard, 2.8 million were drafted," Francis replied, rubbing at the scruff on his chin. "I highly doubt he'd bring all of them here at once, though."

"I get that, frog," Arthur shot back angrily, quickly crossing his arms over his chest. "Damn it, where is he?"

The Briton received his answer rather quickly, for the crowd soon began shouting loudly. They cheered and praised the American soldiers who were beginning to march up. Arthur stared with exasperation. "They're acting as if the Americans have been fighting this war all along!"

Francis clapped respectfully, much too exhausted to actually do any real cheering. "Relax, _s'il vous plaît_. They are giving us a reason to believe that we actually can win the Great War."

"Can and will," Arthur declared.

"Now, that's the spirit!" Francis grinned, the first real grin Arthur had seen out of the man in some time.

He turned away from his French neighbor and began watching as the American army edged closer to himself. As they did, he found himself becoming irritated. Those Yanks were laughing and playing around. They didn't seem to take into consideration that they were entering the lands of a nation that had been through hell and back. _No, all Americans care about is their pride, the bastards! I'll have a word with Alfred on this, I swear I will._

Francis placed a hand on the smaller nation's shoulder. "Arthur, I would have expected you to be excited to see your little brother."

"Bugger off, France, he's no longer my brother!" Arthur shrugged Francis' hand off. "And, why are you so pleased to see him? He's going to demand a ridiculous amount of money or whatever it is he wants in exchange for this, you know him. The kid has no respect for anyone but himself."

"_Non_, that's where you're wrong. Considering I helped _Amérique _in his war for independence, this will just be as if he's repaying me." Francis smiled. "That way, we'll finally be even."

Green eyes rolled. "Oh, honestly, I don't believe this. You're just going to stand here and clap, as if Alfred can somehow save us all? He just actually declared war a few months ago- how the hell could his soldiers have had any time to train? He's just showing off, the damn wanker, because he knows people will love him if he does. He has no idea what he's getting himself into."

With a sigh, Francis muttered, "I'm sorry I brought up the Revolution, Arthur. It appears you still can't handle hearing about it."

Arthur glared. "Shut it, you bloody git."

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><p>Arthur did get his chance to talk to Alfred later that day, though it wasn't under pleasant circumstances- after all, Alfred had just entered in a war and Arthur highly doubted the young boy was ready.<p>

"So, you see," Alfred was saying, grinning quite happily. "Pershing has said that we're going to be fighting as a separate unit, okay?"

Eyebrows raised, Arthur asked, "You're saying you're joining the Allies, but you're actually going to be fighting alone?"

"That's correct!" Alfred sat in his chair. "Any questions?"

"Just the one- when did you become so stupid?"

Alfred sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the small room that he was currently confined to for the moment, being lectured by his old caretaker. "Artie, I know you resent me being better than you-"

"Damn it, Alfred, can you get over your pride for a few minutes to hear me out?" Arthur leaned closer to the young nation. "When you joined the Allies, you joined a _group _of multiple armies, all fighting together for the same cause. What makes you think you can just waltz in and declare yourself separate from your _allies_?"

With a smile, Alfred replied, "The way I see it, Artie, you're in no position to complain. If you even try rejecting my idea, I can just 'waltz' right back to my country with my soldiers, and leave you guys."

"You know how hated you'll be by your own people, not to mention your president?"

Alfred shrugged, and Arthur knew he really didn't have much of a choice. Alfred really did carry out his threats, as shown evident by the Revolution. "Fine. Do what you want."

"I was planning on it," came Alfred's snide remark. "Hey, and thanks for, ya know, lining up on the streets and cheering for me. It made-"

"I'll have you know that I had absolutely no part in the cheering," Arthur growled, sitting down in his own chair and looking away. "It was mainly Francis and his people."

There was a quick silence, and, for a second, Arthur wondered if maybe he actually hurt Alfred's feelings. _If I did, it serves him right!_

But, he didn't believe so when Alfred started up again. "Well, it was really nice to hear that. It put my soldiers in good morale."

"As if they weren't already in good morale," Arthur muttered with a snort. "Listen, Alfred, your soldiers don't know what the hell it's like over here, okay? Damn it, they're probably expecting the type of warfare we used back in the 1800's."

Alfred narrowed his eyes, finally getting serious. "My people aren't dumb, Arthur. We may not have been fighting in this war, but we're keeping up with the development of new weapons, okay?"

They locked eyes for a few minutes, until Arthur broke it by standing. "You'd best hope, Alfred. You should really hope so." And, with that, he left the young man alone as he retired for the night in his own room

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><p><strong>So, I have somehow finished chapter three. Hooray! And, now, it's history time!<strong>** I promise, I won't make it too long.**

**-Now, to start with, the Americans entered Paris on June, 26, 1917, as stated above. And, yes, the people there cheered quite loudly for their support. I imagine our nice, fresh soldiers being all rowdy and happy, while the other Allied soldiers kinda looked on, thinking, 'they won't know what hit 'em'. Cause, these guys had already been fighting and sacrificing their comfort and lives for their countries, so...yeah. And, as an extra side-note, many actually DID see U.S. involvement as a way of repaying the French for their help during the Revolutionary War.**

**-Selective Service Act was passed after America's declaration of war, and required all men, 21-30 years of age, to be drafted into the army, resulting in 2.8 million American soldiers- before, we had roughly 27,000 men, or something like that. We also trained our men in 3 weeks what most soldiers learn in 3 months. Needless to say, the soldiers had too much crammed into them at once and were slightly inexperienced upon actually fighting in the war.  
><strong>

**-John J. Pershing had a military strategy: the U.S. troops were to fight as a separate unit from the Allies. ****I do believe that, later on, he allowed the army to be taken up under a foreign power. Couldn't stay separate for too long, ya know? Interesting story about Pershing, by the way: When he arrived in Paris, it is said that he stopped at **Marquis de La Fayette**'s grave and saluted him. (Fayette, by the way, was a general in the American Revolution). It is also said that he spoke the words, "Lafayette, we are here,", but Wiki tells me they were actually spoken by Stanton...not sure if this is true or not, considering I'm using Wiki. *slaps self***

**Okay, history lecture over! Shoot me up a PM or review or something- this WAS going to be my final chapter, but I'm considering adding in at least one more. I'm not sure yet, we'll see.**

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><p><strong>[OKAY, just researched the 'Lafayette' quote, and it WAS spoken by Charles E. Stanton, a colonel in WW1 (aide to Pershing). There's a full quote- <strong><br>****

**"It is with loving pride we drape the colors in tribute**  
><strong>of respect to this citizen of your great republic. And<strong>  
><strong>here and now in the presence of the illustrious dead<strong>  
><strong>we pledge our hearts and our honor in carrying this<strong>  
><strong>war to a successful issue. Lafayette, we are here"<strong>

**This refers to the American Revolution and the help that ****Marquis de La Fayette**** and all the French soldiers gave us during this time. Sorry to add in more history, the nerd in me just finds it interesting.]  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

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><p>The trench, Alfred had decided quite some time ago, was awful. Even worse then the pictures. He hated being here, stuck in this dirty thing, days upon days. It was going to be worth it, though, or so he told himself. He believed it, too. It had taken him a while to get into this optimistic spirit. First, he had still been very anxious and nervous, wondering if the decision in coming to aid the Allies was the right one. After training from the others, of course, he finally had a smile on his face and had already declared Germany and the rest of the Central Powers to be the losers.<p>

He just didn't know he'd have to sit in a trench, waiting for his next orders.

The offensive just needed to start soon. He was expecting to get out there and kick some German ass, but he really couldn't without commands. _I'll gladly go. Anything to get out of this place._ His blue eyes shot over to Francis, who was sitting beside him, cigarette in his mouth and looking quite calm, for one whose lands were a complete battlefield by now. "How the hell can you smoke those things?" Alfred asked his friend.

Francis let out a puff of smoke Alfred's way. "Nervous habit, I believe you Americans would call it," the European nation replied. "Besides, it's war. If you've been living like I have, a cigarette would be a wonderful means of escape. Quite like alcohol, which is a tad more difficult to acquire whilst fighting."

Someone else decided to cut in. "Only you would think of getting drunk during war," exclaimed Arthur, who sat farther away from the other allies, looking grim and rather exhausted.

"Doesn't seem wise to drink alcohol," Alfred agreed.

With a laugh, the Frenchman gave a quick retort. "Which is why I'm not drinking it at the moment, dear _Amerique_."

Deciding to ignore how butchered his name sounded in French, Alfred brought his gaze over to Arthur. "How much longer are we going to have to sit here?"

"You two will leave tomorrow morning, as I've been telling you, Alfred," the island nation said, rolling his eyes. "I, however, will remain here."

Francis managed to give a grin. "Let's see exactly how well you'll hold up, shall we? Try not to let me down, _s'il vous plaît_."

"I wasn't planning on it."

* * *

><p>Alfred didn't get much sleep that night, for at he was to be ready around five in the morning for the attack. He didn't have time to grumble as he normally did- in fact, he was a bit too frightened to do much other than obey Francis' orders to put on his uniform and follow him. Of course, his friend had to quickly leave to prepare for his part in this battle, and Alfred was left feeling quite alone, a million questions running through his head at once; what if he gets shot, what if they lose this battle, what if, what if, what if...<p>

The fear struck again as, at 5:45 that same morning, artillery fire had started. Alfred really couldn't do much but blindly shot his gun at the Germans, trying to ignore the screams and cries from men around him.

Finally, the offensive took place after nearly an hour of firing. Alfred watched as the French tanks and aircraft proceeded forward. Still hearing the gunshots ringing in his ears, he managed to communicate to General-Major Bullard. It was hard to do so, but they somehow managed, and finally, _finally_, they followed the French, bayonets ready.

The battle, Alfred quickly realized, was a test- a test to see if the Americans could fight as well as they boasted. He knew all other Allies were watching intently, waiting to see how his people would preform. With this in mind, he braced himself, and was able to cover himself with a hard coat of armor, letting only his courage and and determination shine through.

To his surprise, he was met with very little resistance. Just as well, he supposed- for all his complaining about wanting to fight, he was already sick of it. His uniform was splattered red in some places, from where his men had fallen around him, and he wanted nothing more than to just strip and bathe. Bathe all of this blood off of him.

For now, though, he knew he needed to concentrate. Nothing was going to get done if he didn't lead his men with the same power Francis and Arthur were able to. So, he did. He fought his way through, grateful that the French tanks were doing their jobs. They provided him with cover, and were easily able to roll right on through, stopping all Germans on the way to the objective line.

By the time they actually _did_ reach it, the time was 7:20 and Alfred was pumping with adrenaline, which he supposed he had been running on this whole time. _Funny_, he thought, finally able to stop for a quick rest. _I still have energy to burn_. Of course, he was breathing rather hard, but he just ignored it, and instead chose to gaze at the ruins around him.

When he saw Francis coming over, he quickly expressed his honest opinion, which he hadn't yet learned to control. "We're saving...this?"

With a soft smile, the weary French nation nodded. "Cantigny. It may not look like much to you, but one day it might be reformed to its original state." He ran his fingers through his messy, blond hair. "Besides that, it's only 75 miles north from Paris. If we were to let the Germans take this, wouldn't they be able to slowly move their way forward?"

"I guess," Alfred muttered, meeting Francis' eyes. With a shaky grin, he continued. "How do you think I did?"

Unable to return the grin, Francis merely gave Alfred a pat, and he, too, gave his honest opinion. "So far, you've been _magnifique_, Alfred."

Pleased with his response, Alfred finally relaxed his tense shoulders, and turned away, ready to help his men in the next phase- German counterattack.

* * *

><p>They had to hold their position, that was all. It seemed easy enough, Alfred had thought as he stood with his machine gun, arms sore from holding it for such a long time. After all, the Germans had put up such little resistance at first. How could they not win now?<p>

Then came the German attack. Alfred quickly fired upon first sight, but felt a little overwhelmed. He hadn't yet experienced large German forces, and even though his was far from large, they were still strong and tough. They didn't waver much at all, and they were most certainly brave, braver than Alfred had imagined they would be, considering how the start of the battle played out.

He ducked down to reload, and yelled something to one of his men, who was also reloading. "Give 'em hell, kid!"

The young man grinned, and shouted back, "Same to you!"

Well, this was good, at least. Sure, this kid wasn't the age Alfred was hoping for (he looked to be around seventeen), but at least he had the right amount of spirit. It raised Alfred's hope and he shot right back up again, returning fire.

* * *

><p>It was on the second day when the first bullet entered Alfred's flesh. He had been shot before, sure, but each time it caused him so much pain. He fell back with a cry, landing roughly on his back. He knew he had to get up, he knew he did, but he couldn't at the moment. The bullet had entered his shoulder, and moving his arm was complete and utter torture.<p>

He did manage to sit up, gritting his teeth and moving his hand to cover the blood which was now freely flowing. In this position did he get a good look at everything. Men lay all around him- some were heavily gassed, their eyes bulging as the stared sightlessly up at the sky, some were shot, faces an explosion of the crimson liquid that seemed to be everywhere.

The worst part, though, was when Alfred noticed a young man beside him. His chest was softly rising and falling, bullet holes in a row across his stomach. Alfred took his bloody hand off his shoulder and laid it on the young man, the same one who had lifted his spirits mere hours before this. The eyes of the boy flickered over to him. "You'll be okay," Alfred told him, his voice probably going unheard through the heavy artillery fire.

It didn't seem to matter. The boy lifted his arm and grasped onto Alfred, the light in his eyes slowly dying away. Alfred could only watch in horror and helplessness as the young boy slowly drifted off, breaths coming in gasps now. It was over within a matter of minutes.

That's when Alfred felt the first wave of tears come.

* * *

><p>When the next day rolled around, the firing had slowed, until it came to a complete stop. Alfred cheered with the rest of his man, though his mind was elsewhere. He stayed in that city for a few more days, helping with a bit of the cleanup and going over various subjects, quite like the number of causalities, which he would really rather not had heard.<p>

He and Francis were back in Paris shortly afterward, and Alfred was finally able to do as he wished- strip and bathe. Francis, meanwhile, filled Arthur in on the battle.

"So, he preformed admirably?" Arthur asked, after listening to the long details from his ex-rival.

"_Oui_," Francis replied. "I must admit, I had my doubts at first, but he proved his worth."

Arthur let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Francis. And, are you feeling well?"

The other nation scoffed. "I'm always feeling well. Alfred, I know, did get shot in his shoulder, but it healed up rather quickly, _dieu merci_."

"Mm." This bit of news did worry Arthur. _I'm still acting like a brotherly figure to the kid, huh? Well, it's to be expected._

* * *

><p>Later that night, he was ready to get some much needed sleep, but he heard a knock at his door. When he opened it, he found the American country, looking quite clean and fresh, a grin on his face. "Hey, Artie!"<p>

"Don't call me that."

Ignoring the elder's protests, Alfred just walked right in and flopped down on the bed. "Ah, this feels rather nice!"

"Why don't you go back to your own room and sleep, then?"

Alfred readjusted the glasses as he sat up. "Well, I kinda wanted to talk to you."

Arthur sat next to him. "About what?" he asked, ready to answer the questions Alfred might have. After all, the young country had just fought his first offensive battle of the Great War- of course he had an endless stream of things he wanted to know. However, he wasn't prepared for it when Alfred didn't ask a question.

"I was scared."

"Pardon?"

"I...I was scared, Arthur." When the American met his eyes, Arthur realized just how vulnerable and young Alfred was. "Before the battle, I was scared, during the battle, I was scared, after the battle, I was scared."

The Briton gave a blink. "W-Well, that's to be expected, Alfred."

It was quiet for a few more seconds, and Alfred continued. "During the first hour, I was already sprayed with blood. I couldn't save them. My fallen men, I mean. I had to continue firing my gun, and I heard them screaming all around me. Their cries were awful, and I couldn't do a damn thing."

He took a deep, shaky breath. "It was the same when we were running, and taking over the city. Then, when the Germans led the counterattack, it was even worse. We were gassed, and I had to watch as men who couldn't get hold of a gas mask in time were completely tortured. It..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the painful memories.

Then came his second batch of tears. Arthur watched for a mere second, surprised and shocked at Alfred's display of some emotion other than ignorance, before he gathered him in a hug, trying to comfort him. The tears flowed, and Arthur's shoulder was soon wet, but he cared not. He just held onto Alfred, as Alfred held on to him, and listened as the younger nation sobbed more of his feelings out.

"There was this kid, Arthur. A kid. I was with him when he died." He let out a choking gasp, his fingers clenching the island nation's shirt. "A kid!"

"I know," Arthur whispered, rubbing Alfred's back. "I know."

Alfred had experienced wars before, Arthur knew. However, this was the very first time he had to comfort his ex-colony after any sort of battle. Hell, even in the French and Indian War, they didn't see too much of each other- Arthur felt Alfred was too young and ought to stay at home more. Therefore, this was probably the first time he had ever seen Alfred so emotional, not counting the times when his little brother was but a child. It felt bittersweet to be doing this, holding him again in his arms.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Alfred's tears finally ceased, until Arthur felt his shirt would forever be wet. Still, they didn't let go of each other.

"Thanks, Britain," he heard Alfred whispered. "I love you."

Arthur felt his own eyes well up with tears- Alfred was still so young. These wars he had been fighting in truly affected him more than he let on. The sheer determination his ex-colony possessed was more than enough, Arthur was certain, to accomplish any task.

He closed his eyes, blocking off those tears. "I love you, America."

* * *

><p><strong>MEIN GOTT. This was awful. I'm just getting worse, aren't I?<strong>

**Wellllll, it's that time again- history time. I'll really try hard to make this short, especially since it's just one battle. To start with, this was the Battle of Cantigny, which was the first American offensive for WW1. Catigny was a French village, just 75 miles north of Paris (as dear France stated), which the Germans took over. This battle WAS sort of like a test for the Americans. The French were the main allies during this battle, and they sort of paved the way with tanks and aircraft, while the Americans did the ground fighting. **

**I mentioned a Major-General Bullard, who led this battle (and this is about the only thing he's real famous for). Real interesting fact about him, by the way: His original name was William Robert Bullard, but he asked his father to change his name to Robert Lee Bullard, in honor of Robert E. Lee (the Confederate general from the Civil War, in case you were wondering). I love Robert E. lee (AMAZING general, by the way- both the north and south wanted him), so this seemed pretty awesome in my book.**

**I'm pretty sure I got all of the times right. They were real precise about the times. As for the causalities, 1,067** **Americans were killed/missing at the end of the battle, when they started out with about 4,000 troops. This battle did indeed prove our worth, and the French and British were quite happy to see that we could actually fight. I do believe the Germans soon also realized, "Damn, they CAN fight." Maybe everyone just realized that at once, and Pershing was all, "Hell YEAH we can." I dunno, I'm sleepy.**

**Anyway, if you wanted to know more, please feel free to shoot me up a PM. I'm too tired and brain-dead to post any more history notes up. Please review! I do believe this is actually completed, but I just might write a sequel, perhaps describing the ****aftermath, maybe from a different point of view or something.**

**[Psst- no, I am NOT pairing America and Britain up. This is a complete and utter brotherly love. If you want to view it otherwise, by all means, go for it, though.]**


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